A Personal Problem
by clearlyclaraoswin
Summary: Jim Moriarty is a student who recently moved from Ireland to the United States. This chronicles the events leading up to the murder of a boy named Carl Powers. Teenlock Mormor AU. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Moving from Ireland to America was hell enough for James, but going to an American school only made it worse. Despite common belief, when a student comes from another country, they are not stood up at the front of the class. They are not introduced to said class, and they most definitely are not offered a place to sit. Rather, he was put in the exact same boat as everyone else— which included getting lost in the halls of the public school multiple times, making several failed attempts at friendship, and trying to juggle all of the things he had to carry. It was the height of inconvenience and bad luck, the single most inideal scenario he could imagine. And that was before he killed someone.

The murder wasn't immediate, no, it was a slow and carefully planned process. And this details the inception and execution of that plan with utmost care. This is not a horror story, no. It is a story about a lie, a secret, a kiss, and most of all, one boy with too much time and not enough care. This is a story of love, but not a love story. If anything, it is an adventure. And adventure in the mind of a teenager.

Jim was wearing the most monotonous clothing he could find, as he had no desire to stand out at all. His shirt was grey and had once read in a white print "Meh", but due to fading spelled out "Me.". His jeans, baggy enough to need a belt and long enough to drag on the floor, were a pale blue. His black hair showed some sign of an attempt at grooming, but it was obviously in vain, as it stood up wildly. He carried a messenger bag, which he set down on the floor as he took a seat, slouching dramatically into his chair and crossing his arms as he waited for the teacher to give instructions.

In hindsight, Jim should have seen the icebreaker games coming. Luckily, it didn't involve standing in front of the class, but rather just telling those in his group. Each group was actually a cluster of five desks, four put into a square and one at the end, facing the rest. At that head table sat a tall, lanky boy with limbs that resembled those of spider, his hair a mess of black curls, and he was clad in an unreasonable dressy button-up shirt and trousers.

On the desk in front of him and to his right was a boy of much shorter stature with sandy blond hair. He had been wearing a knitted sweater when he had arrived at school, but as soon as he was inside he had removed it, and it was now hanging over the back of his chair. He was smiling and holding a hushed conversation with a boy beside him, who had a bulky (but not fat) build.

He managed to wear a mix between the lanky black boy and short blonde boy's attire— a T-shirt and a hoodie worn with a pair of denim bootcut jeans. But the most startling theme of his appearance was his hair, which had a surprising streak of grey, which he was actually discussing with the blonde. ("No, it's not dyed." "Really?!" "Yes, my doctor told me it's natural and can happen with anyone." "That's amazing!")

But the most interesting figure of the five sat beside Jim. He worse black skinny jeans and combat boots. He wore a white T-shirt and a dark black leather jacket. He had blonde hair that might have at some point been maintained, but was now long and hung in his eyes. He had four piercings in the one ear that a bit of hair was tucked behind, and he was tapping the table with disinterest as he chewed on a pen and stared off into space, obviously bored out of his mind.

The teacher finally called out for the introductions to begin, and the lanky boy was the first to speak.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and I know everything about you."


	2. Chapter 2

Oh wow so people actually read this I don't know what to do but here take this I wrote another chapter I hope you like it. If there's anything you need, my Tumblr url is oswnning. Feel free to review and suggest stuff, I want nothing less than to improve my writing and make my characters as in-character as possible.

Also, to address ships before they even become an issue, there will be mostly mormor, but a side dish of mystrade and johnlock. For all your shipping needs. (Irene and Molly make an appearance but that is for a later date)

* * *

The table fell into an awkward silence. All of them stared at Sherlock wordlessly, as the boy looked back at each of them in turn, completely oblivious to how creepy what he had just said sounded. By the grace of God, the boy with the embarrassing sweater cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair before speaking up.

"I'm John. John Watson."

The boy with the grey-streaked hair interjected. "Watson, as in Harriet's brother?" he asked.

John nodded and continued. "I want to be a doctor when I'm older."

The blonde boy, who had remained silent along with Jim for the extent of the exercise, rolled his eyes and tilted his chair back slightly. Sherlock nodded, a kind of '_I knew it_' nod, but remained silent as the boy who had interrupted John spoke.

"I'm Lestrade and-" Blonde boy snorted. "I'm Greg. And I-"

It was Sherlock's turn to interject. "Have a poorly concealed infatuation with the head of the student government." he said simply, not batting an eye as he said it. John's mouth gaped and he looked from Sherlock looked from Greg to Sherlock, and Jim was just dumbfounded by the sheer cockiness of Sherlock.

It was the silent boy's turn to speak. He put his chair down correctly, slouching into it to compensate and running his fingers through his overgrown hair. "I'm Sebastian." he said flatly. "And I'm going to join the army."

It was the first time since the five had met that there wasn't any kind of tense silence. Greg just nodded, Sherlock sighing and tapping his fingers on the desk as John smiled, opening his mouth to speak, but being interrupted by Jim.

"Why?" He asked, intrigued by the boy who seemed to be everything but responsible and capable of leadership wanting to join something so disciplined and uniform.

Sebastian looked directly at Jim, looking vaguely shocked, but covering it quickly with his evidently default expresion of indifference. He was about to answer when the teacher interrupted the exercise, clapping her hands with the ever-fake enthusiasm of a teacher as she began her lectures on the grading policy and school dress code.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the class passed by in a grey blur. The teacher's words melted into a singular flow of blah-blah-blah and Jim was sure he saw Sebastian fall asleep at least once during the time period. But the bell, a loud and obnoxious BRRRRR blared over the teacher who, at that time, had reached a point where she was telling them not to pet the wildlife. Jim was relieved to escape the old lady's nonsensical ramblings and move on to his next class, his schedule gripped in his hand as he shouldered his backpack and waited for most of the class (which left the room like bats out of hell) to empty out before leaving. He loitered outside the door for a short time, examining his schedule and his room number. Just as he was about to go on his way, he heard a conversation from the room he had just left.

"Sebastian Moran." The elderly lady said condescendingly. "I need you to do me a favor, dear."

"Look, teach. I'm not cutting my hair. It's in the dress code." he said flatly.

"No, no, dear. That's not it. You know our new student," a pause and ruffle of papers. "Mister James Moriarty?"

"No." The answer was both immediate and curt.

"Well, he's come here from across the pond— he might have some difficulty adjusting." She explained.

"As compared to the rest of us, who are growing hair on-"

"Yes, dear. I'm sure that's a valid, point, but what I am trying to say is that we need to give him a guide, a helping hand, I guess you would call it."

"I'll be sure to stay on the lookout for volunteers." Sebastian retorted.

"No, we aren't taking volunteers." The elderly lady said. "We've chosen you to help him with his transition."

The silence was deafening. Then Sebastian finally said, "I share classes with him?"

"Not just classes, poppet. All your classes. We have made your schedules identical to make James as comfortable as possible."

"Right." he remarked. "Guess I should get to class, don't want to keep Jimmy-poo waiting."

The teacher said nothing as Sebastian slunk out the door, right past Jim, almost missing him completely.

Almost.

He turned to look at the noticeably shorter boy, staring daggers at him. "I'm assuming you overheard that conversation." he said, nodding his head towards the door.

Jim nodded and challenged the other boy by looking up at him and making eye contact, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw. "Yes."

Sebastian nodded. "Right. So basically, I'm your fucking buddy or something. I doubt you favor this arrangement any more than I, so how about you just do whatever you do and I go off in my separate directions, and we just sit next to each other in class and act friendly." The initial question had somehow morphed into a command.

Jim, although his body language reflected strength and stubbornness, was terrified. Sebastian was bigger than him, angrier than him, and smarter than him. Well, maybe not smarter. But faster. And it scared the hell out of him.

Well, it scared him. But it also fascinated him. Where he came from, he had all the power. At his old school, he had things to dangle over everyone's head, making him the most powerful person in the school. Of course, the relocation put him back at the bottom, but something told him that if he could push the right buttons, he could use this Sebastian to rise to the top.

So he nodded. In order to win the boy over, he'd have to seem friendly and compliant. Sebastian seemed surprisingly shocked by Jim's reaction, but he nodded, pleased with himself, before standing up straight. There was a sort of silent exchange between them before Sebastian nodded and Jim huffed and they were done.

They walked side by side to their next class.

* * *

So that's that. My new url on tumblr is destinae, any questions can go there. I'm going to try to update at least every other day, but no promises are made. Merry christmas.


	4. Chapter 4

If only there was some way to narrate a disappointingly average first day of Jim and Sebastian's partnership. If there was only some words that could describe how absolutely normal their schedule ( Geometry, Speech, German, Biology, Phys Ed, English, and Geography) and classmates, most of which were seen many times throughout their schedule. There was Irene, a thin girl with frizzy brown hair and braces. She was silent and intelligent, and dressed fashionably, despite her less-than-appealing appearance. There was also Donovan and Anderson, who went by their last names, much like Lestrade, who they had already met in their homeroom. Donovan had dark skin and curly black hair, and dressed smartyl despite the fact that her grades were so low they were only rivaled by Anderson's pure idiocracy. He had hair so greasy it was almost painful to look at, clothes too big for him, and a nasally voice that made dogs for miles around whimper.

Their next days also passed by in monotony, one class after another. They made a few failed attempts at conversation, and there were even a few conversations that actually left the ground. Granted, they came crashing back down moments after they started. But it was a start, and soon they were going against their promise and sat together at lunch, silently, at the back of the building, backs resting against the red bricks.

"Sebastian?" Jim said, knees pulled up to his chest and a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

"Mmhm?" Sebastian hummed around a bite of apple.

"Can't you tell me something about you?" he asked. "I mean, if you're going to be vague, then just tell me. But if we're going to be around each other so much, we might as well know a bit about each other."

Sebastian swallowed a bite of the apple and ran a hand through his hair. "My mother raised me. She tells me my dad is in the army but I think he ran off when I was born. My stepdad is a drunk and my mother favors my older brother over me, even though all he does is sit around on his ass and get nothing done. The only way to get my mother to blink an eye in my direction is by dressing like this, so that's what I do." He bit into the apple, almost aggressively. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

By now, Jim's eyebrows were raised and his mouth was slightly open, sandwich still gripped in his hands. "No." he said. "I thought you were just another one of those moronic teenagers who hates everything for no reason." he bit from the sandwich. "Now you're just a moronic teenager who hates everything with good reason."

"Yeah?" Sebastian said angrily. "Then what's your story?"

Jim frowned and swallowed his bite. "My father got transferred here on business, and I don't see much of him because he's so busy with his work. My mother is vain and self-centered. She will shop for clothes before she shops for food." He set his sandwich down, no longer hungry. "And I don't see my older siblings." he added vaguely.

It was Sebastian's turn to be quiet. "So I guess we both have daddy issues, then." he muttered before taking another bite of the apple. When Jim stared at him blankly, he rolled his eyes. "Nevermind."

For a few more minutes, there was silence. It was again Jim's turn to speak. "So about that project, the one from Speech-"

Sebastian groaned. "God, are you kidding me?" he said. "You're actually going to do it?"

"Well... yes." Jim said, confused. "Unless you want to get a zero."

"You make it sound like I care."

"You should."

"I don't."

"About the grade, or school?"

"Both."

"Do you care about anything?"

"I guess you."

"Oh."

They ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

* * *

Made a reference to PJO 'cause I could.

Any questions, contact me at Tumblr. My url is destinae.


	5. Chapter 5

They met after school. Sebastian was standing outside the school by the front door, and as soon as Jim was out, the taller boy grabbed him by his wrist and yanked him to the side.

"The project." he said. "We're still doing it, right?"

"Yes." Jim said, confused by Sebastian's strange behavior.

"Fantastic. You're coming with me." he said, still gripping Jim's arm and dragging him across the small courtyard in front of the school. Sebastian walked briskly, and Jim almost had to jog to keep up with the lankier boy's stride. Soon they were standing at the curb by the road the led out of the school, cars zooming past and students darting between them as they crossed the street. Pulling out an iPhone with cracks webbing out across the screen, Sebastian punched in a number and lifted it to his ear. He let go of Jim's arm and scratched his neck with his now free hand.

"Alec." he said. There was a pause, and he rolled his eyes. "Just pick me u- no. Yes. For a project, you moron. You know where to pick me up." He frowned and angrily tapped the screen with his thumb, shoving the phone into his pocket and crossing his arms.

"Who is Alec?" Jim asked, although he was sure he already knew the answer.

"My brother." Sebastian said. "He picks me up from school, since my parents are occupied."

Jim nodded. "I thought you didn't get along."

"We don't. He only does it because it keeps up the 'perfect child image'." He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped himself, as a small car had pulled up at the curb and honked its horn obnoxiously, despite being right in front of them. Sebastian made a face, his lip curling slightly as he pulled open the door, holding it for Jim. Once Jim had slid in, they buckled in and the car took off down the road.

The car ride was tense and uneventful. There was the occasional "so how was Algebra?" "oh it was dull, the teacher didn't even understand what she was teaching" or a "Are your parents okay with this?" which got a response of "they don't care".

When they arrived, Sebastian and Jim stepped out of the car and barely had enough time to grab their bags and shut the door before the car launched down the street. Wordlessly, Sebastian shouldered his backpack and led Jim up the walk to his house, which was actually somewhat small. It was made of white brick with a slanted brown roof and weeds growing up the sides. The path was concrete and sunflowers that were already withered poked their heads from the cracks in the pavement.

Sebastian withdrew a key from his pocket, inserting it into the lock and jiggling it awkwardly before it went in, and he turned it, the door opening as he stepped inside. As Jim looked around, he was surprised, as the interior seemed so oddly out of place. The walls were lined with antique clocks, ticking to one single beat. Sebastian never knew how or why they had been synced up, but they never stopped, so he let them be. He walked down the main hall and was faced with some very steep and narrow stairs. "My room's up here." he said.

Jim had been looking at the clocks with both fascination and slight awe as he wondered who in the right mind would collect something as ridiculously odd as clocks. But he didn't question it, as he didn't want to get on Sebastian's bad side. Of course, Sebastian seemed to be nothing but bad side, but that was a topic for another time.

Once they reached the top of the rickety and narrow stairs, Sebastian dropped his bag, reaching up over his head (and exposing much of his midriff) in order to grab a string the hung from the ceiling. He tugged it, and a door came down. Holding it up, Sebastian looked over his shoulder at Jim. "Think you could move my bag?"

Jim managed to tear his eyes away from Sebastian's surprisingly muscular stomach to bend down and pick up the bag. Sebastian took a few steps back, pulling down the door and, subsequently, the ladder connected to the inside, before holding his hand out for the backpack.

"We're going up there?" Jim asked, horrified.

* * *

You know the drill, questions and concerns go to my tumblr, and my url is destinae. Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6

Sebastian looked at Jim with shock. "Yes." he said, scaling the ladder easily, not looking back.

Once he reached the highest room and pulled a thin chain, it was illuminated to reveal an attic not much larger than a regular room. On the floor at the base of the wall that was at the front of the house was a mattress with blankets left a mess. On the floor, against the wall to its right was a small huddle of books stacked neatly on top of each other, bookmarks in place. On the opposite wall was a chest of drawers, most of which hung open, filled with (mostly black) clothes.

But the strangest part of it all was the wall facing the back of the house. There was a portrait window there, sitting open. The curtains on it rustled slightly in the fall wind, and blew leaves on a chest beneath it, secured shut with a padlock. On top of it sat a slightly slimmer, equally as padlocked box. Jim did not comment on the fact that both locks were covered in scratches, obvious attempts at breaking them open.

Setting his bag on the floor, Sebastian ambled over to the drawers and reached behind them, pulling out a posterboard with a flourish. He looked at Jim expectantly.

"What?"

"It's for our project, dumbass." he said, walking over to where Jim was standing. "We're going to be talking about equal rights."

"For who?"

"Doesn't matter, I'll explain later." Sebastian quipped vaguely. "But now that we've done enough work to please the teacher, I've got something to show you." he said, a rare smile lighting up his face.

"What?" Jim asked for the second time.

"Watch and learn." Sebastian said with a smirk, walking over to the window and carefully crawling out onto a small ledge. There was a silence.

"Come on, then!" Sebastian's slightly muffled voice called.

Carefully, Jim stepped out the window onto the ledge. He carefully inched over the ledge, which was only about five or six inches wide, to where Sebastian was perched on a suspiciously flat part of the roof. Jim eventually made it over and collapsed onto the makeshift bench, constructed of wooden planks nailed to the roof, his legs giving out from fear.

"Why are we here?"

"So I can show you something."

"Show me what?"

"The world."

"You're so corny."

"Force of habit."

* * *

They spent the next few hours watching cars pass and talking about school.

Then Jim's father made an appearance.

* * *

Sorry about this P.O.S. chapter, I've made three separate attempts to write it out and my browser has crashed every time. I promise that next chapter it will be twice as long as usual. Scout's honor.


	7. Chapter 7

In which everything falls apart.

* * *

"James Moriarty!" A shrill voice cried out, loud enough to be heard even on the roof. The voice had boomed up the stairs, up the ladder, through the attic, out the window, and to the small ledge where the two boys had been reclining for quite some time. At this point, of course, Sebastian was lazily slouching on the ledge, legs dangling off the edge while Jim sat cross-legged, still intently watching the things going on outside the fence that went along the back of the house.

They both jumped at the sound of the screech, Jim moreso than Seb. His looked at the other boy, eyes filled with a look unlike fear. Sebastian, realizing that he actually knew what was down there said, "Who is that?"

Jim clamped a hand over his mouth and spoke through gritted teeth. "That is my mother." he hissed, glancing nervously towards the window. "Please hide me."

A series of expressions ran over the blonde boy's face, before he finally nodded. "Get back into the attic, quick." he muttered, standing up and balancing on the ledge. Jim did as instructed, managing to make it into the attic with little to no sound. Sebastian didn't, foot knocking down the thin black crate as he came in. They both made eye contact, now both equally afraid.

Wordlessly, Sebastian kneeled down and began to work on the padlock on the crate. "Jim." he said, just loud enough to be heard. "Close the attic door. Then take what's in here and put it on top of the door, alright?"

Jim nodded, intending to carefully close the door. Unfortunately, he had underestimated exactly how heavy it was, and the thing closed with a loud thud. Everything became deadly silent.

And then there was stomping up the stairs.

Sebastian turned back to the lock, fingers flying as he tried to get the combination right.

There was a creaking noise as someone climbed the ladder.

There was the softest click as Sebastian finally got the lock open, throwing open the lid and reaching in, pulling out a series of weights before nodding at Jim, jerking his head towards the crate. Jim practically lept in, and Sebastian closed the lid on him.

The door began to strain.

Putting the padlock on the crate, Sebastian clicked it shut, barely having time to turn the dial to lock it before the door opened.

The head of a thin, almost frail woman who didn't appear to be over the age of twenty, but couldn't be younger than thirty, poked into the attic. She had blonde hair, although the black roots were evident, and it had been curled that morning beyond necessity, and so the hair appeared almost fried. She wore so much makeup that Sebastian felt like retching, and the dress she had on probably cost more than everything Sebastian had in his attic-room.

Her head turned to look at him.

Sebastian quickly took his hand off the lock, taking one of the heaviest weights he could find and pretending to strain against it in order to pick it up, palms sweating as he hoped the ruse would work.

"Who the hell are you?" She said, voice nasally.

"I could ask the same."

She scowled, expression almost comical. "What a brat. No wonder he talks to you." she paused. "Tell me where my son is."

"I wasn't aware anyone would want to reproduce with you."

She made an annoyed sound in her throat. "If you were my own son, I would have slapped you by now. Now tell me where James is."

"James?" Sebastian asked, standing up and planting his hands on his hips. "I think I saw him go home with someone..." he drummed his fingers on his chin in faux thoughtfulness. "Molly... Hooper?" he said. "Yes, Molly." Sebastian concluded.

The woman's expression just barely softened. Or at least, it appeared to. It also could have been one of her thousands of layers of makeup cracking.

"Oh." she said, an almost painfully obvious fake smile spreading on her artificial features. "Sorry for bothering you, dear." she said, ascending the ladder and making her way towards the stairs. Before letting out a sigh of relief, Sebastian closed the door, setting several weights on it before entering the combination, opening the crate.

Then being crushed in a hug from Jim, who seemed to be shaking all over. His arms were around Sebastian's shoulders and his face pressed into the blonde's neck, and he took deep breaths. "You saved me." he managed.

Sebastian pulled away from the spontaneous embrace and proceeded to look at Jim as if he had three heads ."I told your mother you went home with a girl. How the hell is that saving you?"

Jim shifted, stepping out of the box and standing up. "My mother..." he sighed. "You might want to sit down." he said.

Sebastian did just that, walking over to the mattress and sitting down, looking up at Jim, who was now pacing.

"My mother... as I said, she is very vain." he crossed his arms. "And she thinks that I- That I'm gay. And she's convinced that I'm sucking the cock of every boy I hang out with. She doesn't let me within twenty feet of a boy unless she's there, or it's at school. But she's fine with me fucking every girl I set eyes on, since it's the _right thing to do_."

Sebastian was silent for a long time, almost a minute, before speaking. "That's convenient."

"How so?"

"Our project."

"What of it?"

"It's on marriage equality."

Jim's eyes widened slightly. "Sebastian?"

"Mmhm?"

"Are you gay?"

"Not exactly."

"What the hell do you mean by not exactly?"

"I mean," Sebastian said, now picking at his nails, "That I'm not exactly gay and not exactly straight."

"So you're bi?"

"No."

Jim shook his head and sighed in frustration. "Well, either way, I need you to do me a favor."

Sebastian's eyes flicked to Jim's face. "What kind of favor?"

"Hide me."

Sebastian stopped picking and crossed his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let me spend the night."

"I just met you."

"A week ago."

"And you expect me to give you room and board?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other for a good long time, Sebastian's jaw clenched and Jim's hands formed into fists as they stared each other down. Several minutes passed, and then Sebastian let out a groan. "Fine. But only this once. And you sleep on the floor."

A smile appeared on Jim's features for less than a second. "Thank you."

* * *

I hope this makes up for the terrible thing that was the previous chapter.

Any questions go to my tumblr, url is destinae. Later lezzers.


	8. Chapter 8

It was time for dinner.

Jim and Sebastian sat in his room, Sebastian laying on his mattress, shirt riding up slightly leaving his hipbone just barely visible, while Jim sat in the middle of the room, fingers flying as he sent texts to the many contacts on his list.

**TO:** Sherlock Holmes

**FROM:** Jim Moriarty

**MESSAGE:** Hello.

Somewhere on the other side of the neighborhood, in a large house in front of an almost-too-green lawn, sat a dark-haired boy. Who just so happened to be hanging with a blonde friend of his own- but that, of course, was not important. No, the brief vibration of his phone and the swift motion to pick it up as he set down his phone was what mattered.

**TO:** Jim Moriarty

**FROM:** Sherlock Holmes

**MESSAGE:** I would ask who this is, but I have a feeling I already know.

Back on the other side of town, Jim smirked.

**TO:** Sherlock Holmes

**FROM:** Jim Moriarty

**MESSAGE:** Oh? And who would you say it is?

On the other end, the lanky genius set down his violin.

**TO:** Jim Moriarty

**FROM:** Sherlock Holmes

**MESSAGE:** First, I haven't given my number to anyone, save the school and my partner for this project. Meaning, whoever this is would have to be incredibly dedicated to getting my contacts in order to do it, which rules out almost the entire school. The skill required to get to my personal information could only be possessed by someone in either an advanced technology class or some hidden brilliance. Seeing as there is very little of the latter, it is safe to assume that you bribed someone to get into the school's records and get my information. Meaning that you have to be James Moriarty.

**TO:** Sherlock Holmes

**FROM:** Jim Moriarty

**MESSAGE:** Oh dear, you _are_ as smart as they say.

**TO:** Jim Moriarty

**FROM:** Sherlock Holmes

**MESSAGE:** Even moreso, depending on who you heard that from.

**TO:** Sherlock Holmes

**FROM:** Jim Moriarty

**MESSAGE:** It doesn't matter, I have a request for you

**TO:** Jim Moriarty

**FROM:** Sherlock Holmes

**MESSAGE:** And why would I be entitled to fulfill any of your requests?

Sadly, we never found out why Sherlock Holmes would be entitled to fulfill any of Jim's requests, because at that very moment, Sebastian stood up and said,

"It's time to eat."

Jim glanced up from his phone. "What are we eating?"

"Dinner." Sebastian quipped, walking towards the door.

"You know what I meant." Jim answered, pocketing his phone and standing up.

"Of course I did."

"You're a moron."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"Oh my God, Sebastian."

* * *

Sorry for update time and length and shit, but I've got a lot going on, but trust me, there is definitely going to be more of this to come :)


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